


Unsanitary

by Sherlocki_no_Kyojohn (orphan_account)



Series: Marco Bodtom Week 2015 [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Bottom Bodt Week, Bottom Marco Bott, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-06
Updated: 2015-10-06
Packaged: 2018-04-25 04:54:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4947475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Sherlocki_no_Kyojohn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for Bottom Bodt Week on tumblr, run by the Bottom Bodt Brigade.</p><p>Prompt: In the Kitchen</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unsanitary

It was Friday morning, right about the time Jean would normally be getting into work. But he'd been down with the flu since Monday and, although he felt 200% better, like hell was he going to go in for just one day. What his boss didn't know wouldn't hurt them. He lounged on the couch in flannel pajama pants and an old, gray t shirt of Marco's, both of which had been recently washed. By Marco.

  
He felt seriously bad that his boyfriend had been stuck with all the house work while he was out of commission (not that Marco ever complained), but he planned to take the day to make it up to him. He was going to vacuum, sweep, clean the oven and stove, get behind the fridge, scrub the toilet, make the bed, and anything else he could think of before Marco got home at 6:30. Then they were going to have the most mind-blowing sex of their lives, given the fact that they hadn't even come close to doing it for almost a month. It wasn't that they hadn't really wanted to, but with work and school their schedules never seemed to line up; then Jean had to go and get sick. It was the longest dry spell their relationship had ever experienced, and Jean was secretly proud of how well they were handling it. But tonight it would end. Jean had a master plan.

  
But first, Facebook. Jean scrolled through his feed mindlessly, barely taking much in. He liked a selfie of Connie and Sasha, chuckled at Armin's status, and was about to log off when something stopped him. It was photo of the Bodt family, minus one very important Bodt, posing in front of the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Marco's sister had posted it and tagged Margo with the caption, "Wish you were here, little bro. Family trip's not the same without you!" Marco had liked it, but not commented back, which was unlike him. Marco always commented, usually with an obnoxious amount of exclamation marks and smiley emojis.

  
Jean immediately closed out of Facebook and went to his recent calls. Marco was, of course, at the top of the list. He hesitated for a second, remembering he was at work, but pushed past the thought and called him anyways. If his suspicions were correct, this was important.

  
"Hello? Jean?"

"Marco."

"Jean, are you alright? What's the matter?"

"Are you supposed to be in Italy?"

"...No."

"Don't lie to me."

"Jean, I'm at work, can we talk about this when I get home?"

"Why did you skip out on your family vacation? It's important to you."

Marco sighed into the receiver. "I was just busy. I couldn't get time off of work and, you remember, I had those two essays due in my online class, and you were sick-"

"So that is the reason."

"Jean!"

"Marco!"

It was silent for a moment. "I couldn't just leave you," he said in a small voice. Jean felt his heart drop.

"Marco-"

"Look, I really have to go, we'll talk later, okay?"

"Yeah, okay, bye, love you."

"Love you, bye."

Jean dropped his phone and rubbed his face with both hands. That damn Marco. All he ever talked about when he was around his family was their annual trips to Italy, his mom's home. Jean had never gone with him; they'd only been dating for two years and both times Jean had been busy. Plus, it just felt like an intrusion. The Bodt's were a close-knit clan. Jean had known it was coming up, but he hadn't really thought much about it. He'd figured Marco would say something. The fact that Marco had deliberately missed out for Jean's sake (he knew for a fact the other excuses of work and school were bullshit) killed him.

Jean sighed and looked around the near-spotless house. That damn Marco.

Jean sat there for a few more moments then, like something had snapped, he leapt up and rushed to shower and dress. Within ten minutes he was out the door and in his car.

He realized, as soon as he was outside, he hadn't seen the sun in a week and it was a little overwhelming. But he was on a mission and nothing would get in his way.

By the time he got home it was about noon. Jean was walking into the house, three bags on each arm, when he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. He hurried inside to drop the groceries and fish it out. It was Marco, who was probably on his lunch break, and Jean hesitated. He really wanted this to be a surprise and he knew if they got too deep into conversation he would probably give it away. So Jean hit decline and went back out to get the rest of the bags.

The water was just starting to boil when his phone went off again and Jean felt a pang in his chest. He really did feel guilty. What if Marco thought he was mad at him? But he hit decline again, now more because of the pot's demanding his attention, and Jean was too distracted for the rest of the afternoon to think on it.

It was two o'clock before everything was ready.

"Perfect," he muttered.

Their small kitchen table was draped with a dark red tablecloth he'd bought. A candle sat in the center, not yet lit, and Jean had laid out their best plates and silverware (the only two complete sets they owned). The food was in the fridge. He would take it out and reheat it when it got closer to time and, in hindsight, he probably should have just waited to make it but he had been on a roll and didn't stop to think about it in his excitement.

Jean was in the bedroom, in the middle of changing his shirt, when he heard the front door open.

"Jean?"

Jean's eyes shot to the clock on the night stand. It was only just three, what was he doing home so early?

"Jean, why does it smell like garlic?"

"Why are you home?" Jean said as he came out of the bedroom and met Marco in the entry way. He immediately regretted being so careless with his tone when he saw his boyfriend's hurt expression.

"I just... you weren't answering my calls. I was worried. I'm sorry."

"No, baby, don't apologize." Jean took Marco into his arms. "I'm sorry. I just wanted it to be a surprise."

"What?"

Smiling, Jean took Marco's hand and led him to the kitchen. Without the food or a lit candle the whole effect was greatly diminished.

"You weren't supposed to get home this early," Jean said in way of explanation. He looked at Marco who didn't say anything, just stared at the table. Suddenly uncomfortable, Jean released Marco's hand and went to pour two glasses of the expensive (and supposedly very authentic) red wine he'd bought. When he turned back with two half full glasses he saw that Marco was now staring at him with the same awestruck expression.

Jean looked away and took a nervous sip out of one of the glasses. "Chill out, it's not that big a deal."

Before he knew what was happening, Marco's hands were on his face and his tongue in his mouth. It was some faint, sensible voice in the back of his mind that reminded him of the wine in his hands.

"Mmff...Marco, wait." Panting slightly, Jean set the glasses on the counter behind him, then turned back to his boyfriend. He vaguely registered the sound of one of them tipping over.

They made out heavily, constantly changing angels. Their hands ran all over each other's' bodies; their teeth clacked and Jean was almost certain he was bleeding from where Marco had bitten his bottom lip, but he loved it. When they finally parted, gasping and still clutching each other tightly, Marco giggled. He laid his forehead on Jean's.

"You didn't have to do this."

"I wanted to," Jean muttered. "You didn't have to cancel your trip."

"Yes I did. I would have come home to find you dehydrated and behind on your medicine, sicker than ever."

"I wasn't that sick."

"You were coughing up snot."

"Okay, wow, way to kill the mood."

Marco giggled again, then planted a chaste kiss on Jean's lips. Jean kissed him back. Soon they were embracing just as passionately as before.

Marco pushed Jean back into the counter and thrust his thigh into Jean's crotch, causing him to gasp. Jean began rubbing against Marco's leg as he untucked the stuffy work shirt from Marco's dark slacks. He ran his hands up his bare back and truly felt his boyfriend's skin for the first time in what felt like years. He was as warm as ever and Jean moaned at the familiar comfort. He trailed his fingers over different freckle patterns he knew were there; he sometimes saw them when he closed his eyes to sleep. He had missed this so much it hurt.

He was so distracted by just the pure enjoyment of feeling Marco's skin he hadn't registered the sound of Marco unzipping his fly until a firm grasp around his cock caused him to let out a particularly loud combination of a gasp and a shout. Jean immediately began fucking Marco's fist as they shoved their tongues even deeper into each other's mouths. With trembling fingers Jean began fumbling with Marco's belt.

"Jean," Marco muttered when they finally paused for breath.

"Yeah?" Jean replied, already distracted by the feeling of Marco's cock in his own hand.

"I...I'm glad you're feeling better."

Jean laughed. "Yeah, me too-" Jean voice broke when Marco swiped his thumb over Jean's slit to help smear the copious amount of precum already leaking from the tip and really went to work stroking his cock. Jean choked on his boyfriend's name. He ran his fingers up and locked them in Marco's brown hair, something he knew he loved, and let himself begin to get lost in the pleasure.

"Wait, Marco...Marco-hah!"

"What is it?" Marco asked breathlessly, still not showing the slightest bit of mercy to Jean's cock.

This wasn't right. Why should Jean get all the pleasure? He always let damn Marco do everything for him, and it wasn't fucking fair. And besides, it had been so long, Jean had really imagined their first time back into it going all the way. "Marco..." Jean clasped Marco's wrist with one hand, and with the other began reaching down the counter to where the last grocery bag sat. Marco looked and, once he saw what was in it, his face lit up. He stepped away the slightest bit and grabbed the brand new bottle of lube.

"You bastard!" he laughed as Jean all but tackled him to the floor. "This was your plan all along, wasn't it?"

"Not the cooking part. I was originally going to clean, and then we'd have sex."

"Mmmm...Jean wait," Marco said, as Jean moved to his neck. "Shouldn't we go to the bedroom?"

"Fuck, Marco, it doesn't matter. I need you now."

"It's just, sort of, unsanitary-ie-ee!"

Jean had ripped Marco's pants and underwear the rest of the way off and was nuzzling at his stiff dick. "We can move to the bedroom if you still wanna."

Marco had clenched his eyes shut and was shaking his head frantically. "Just...just get in me, you idiot," he panted. Jean laughed again, though he felt just as undone. With practiced fingers he uncapped the lube and slicked up the three middle fingers of his right hand. Impatient, he shoved two fingers in up to the last knuckle and only stopped when Marco let out a loose cry.

"Jean, be- just- slow. It's been a while, remember?"

Horror dawned over Jean's face and he immediately leaned down to plant numerous, apologetic kisses all over his boyfriend's freckles.

"I'm so sorry, baby. I'm sorry. I didn't think about it. I'm sorry." Jean didn't dare move his fingers, even to pull them out.

"S'alright," Marco muttered, eyes shut in concentration. After a moment, Marco nodded and Jean carefully began moving his wrist the slightest bit. Marco sucked in a tight breath through his teeth. Jean stopped again.

"No, it's good, keep going." Jean did and soon Marco was relaxed enough to add a third. Marco shifted against the hard tile. "Don't worry about another finger, I need your dick."

"I don't want to hurt you again, baby."

"It's okay." Marco reached for Jean's face and pulled it right in front of his own so that he could feel his breath on his lips. "I like it when it hurts a little."

Jean shuddered at the darkened tone of his boyfriend's voice and blown eyes. He removed his fingers and added more lube to his cock. Hurriedly, he pressed his head against

Marco's wet asshole. "Ready?" he asked, though it was killing him to hesitate.

"Yes, Jean, yes." Marco kept babbling as Jean pressed in and didn't stop until his pelvis was flush with his ass. "I love you, I love your cock, Iove the way you fuck me, you're so amazing, Jean, haah, I missed this, I missed you, I love you so much Jean, Jean-aheh, hah!"

Jean supported himself on shaking arms, head hanging between his shoulders. The clean kitchen floor made it hard to find purchase, and the moisture building on his skin from the exertion wasn't helping anything. Marco wrapped his legs around Jean's waist; Jean shifted all of his weight to one side and used the other hand to grasp the outside of Marco's thigh.

Panting, he looked into Marco's eyes, shining with adoration. They met for a kiss, and Jean began fucking Marco.

It was fast and rough, desperate, but the kisses they shared managed to remain tender throughout. Marco's hand that wasn't clutching Jean's shoulder moved to his own cock.

He began working at it furiously, trying to keep in time with Jean.

"Jean, I'm close. I'm gonna come."

"Come for me baby."

Marco shut his eyes and nodded. With a few more strokes he came all across both of their clothed chests. He tightened around Jean as he came, and Jean felt himself being pushed even closer.

"Marco...You're so hot when you come." Marco's lips were raw from Jean's mouth, as well as his own teeth. His eyes were moist and his freckles were dusted over with a pretty blush which ran all the way down his neck. He continued to stroke his softening cock as he watched Jean finish under heavy lashes.

With a few more purposeful thrusts, Jean was coming inside of Marco. He stilled, fully buried inside of his boyfriend, and moaned Marco's name through it. Marco clenched and unclenched around him to intensify the sensation for Jean.

When Jean's arms threatened to give out, they slowly pulled apart. Jean's cum leaked out of Marco; Marco's ran down their torsos as they slowly sat up. A few drops had splattered on the surrounding floor.

"Ugh. You were right, that was unsanitary."

Marco laughed. "It's alright, I'll clean it up."

"No, I will."

"But you made that delicious dinner."

"First of all," Jean said as he took Marco's hand and stood up. "You don't know if it's delicious yet. Second, you've been doing the chores all week. I'll clean the kitchen." Still holding Marco's hand he started for the bathroom. "But first, let's clean ourselves."

"Mmm, sounds nice." Jean smiled at Marco's cheeky tone. He looked back at him. Marco's smile grew and they paused to kiss, but stopped when they felt the mess squelching between their bodies.

"Ugh," Jean said, shaking his head. Marco laughed again, and together they showered, then enjoyed the authentic Italian dinner in the spotless kitchen.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, any and all feedback is appreciated.
> 
> Go Bottom Bodt!


End file.
